


don't ask, don't tell

by jackswest



Category: Matthew Reilly Universe, Scarecrow Series - Matthew Reilly
Genre: M/M, One Shot, Oral Sex, Power Imbalance, Pre-Series, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-06
Updated: 2014-07-06
Packaged: 2018-02-07 17:07:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1907061
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jackswest/pseuds/jackswest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some eight years prior to the events of Wilkes Ice Station, Schofield found himself in an interesting position with one Captain Sean Manning of the United States Marine Corps Aviation.</p>
            </blockquote>





	don't ask, don't tell

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Presidian Christmas Challenge, organised by the lovely Bastetian. I was given the prompt of writing male/male in the Scarecrow series. Originally, it was more detailed and focused present day Schofield as well but I've re-written and split it into two stories (the other of which is now titled "So Darkness I Became"). This half is purely smut. And possibly my first time at writing comprehensive sex scenes. Also, smut is impossibly weird to read/write in past tense, so excuse the constant tense changes.

_Some eight years prior to the events of Wilkes Ice Station._

Schofield moved to stand in a line with the other recruits. The expressions on their faces showed just how eager they were to attain their goals and become a part of the Marine Corps.

Shane Schofield was just 23-years-old and wore every sign of his youth unwittingly. His face was clear of any scars and he was considered relatively attractive, with his dark hair and laser-blue eyes. His grandfather, Michael Schofield, was arguably one of the most decorated Marines in the Corps and his father had been a Marine as well, so it was expected for Schofield to follow in their footsteps. However, he’d opted to join the Aviation unit, with hopes of one day leading his own Wing.

Schofield glanced down where the Marines were lined up, standing to attention for their superior officer. Captain Sean Manning was an arrogant yet knowledgeable commanding officer. He was slightly legendary for making the rank at just 29 years of age, among the youngest for the MCA. He’d been responsible for many aspects of the recruits’ training so he’d been with them from the beginning. While it hadn’t always been pleasant, what with his scathing remarks and almost flippant attitude, they’d certainly learned what they had to.

He was also, it couldn’t be denied, incredibly attractive. Tousled blonde hair, blue eyes, a perpetual smirk that seemed to suit his handsome face and like most military men, incredibly fit. Schofield had found ample opportunity to ogle him, normally before he caught himself and pushed it down. _Don’t ask, don’t tell_. He’d voluntarily drilled this into his head ever since he realised that his sexual preferences and his future desires wouldn’t exactly reconcile with each other. He’d been 19 when he’d enlisted, sacrificing the former for the latter. At the time, he hadn’t realised how incredibly difficult to maintain it was going to be.

Four years later and he was beginning to wear the strain already. Luckily, he naturally a person who kept to himself; he’d formed few real friendships through the process, always keeping a distance, fearful they were going to see something he was trying so desperately to hide.

Manning walked along the line, making some snide comment at a female recruit before pausing in front of Schofield. Schofield resisted the urge to shift, meeting his eyes clearly and trying not to let his cheeks flush.

“Report to the officer’s quarters,” he said and Schofield saluted him, as was expected. Internally, he was running every possible reason why this could have occurred. Being singled out in a place that depended on unity was rarely a good thing. Maybe someone had died? Fuck. He hoped to high hell that wasn’t it.

He immediately navigated his way through to the officers’ quarters, despite the ample time he had at his disposal. He paced up and down the adjacent hallway for the next twenty minutes, focusing his energy into quick sharp steps. Schofield often turned to physical exertion to halt his thoughts. He was so absorbed in the action that he didn’t even notice Manning appear and open the door to his quarters.

“If you’re quite done playing with yourself,” he remarked, holding the door open. Schofield glanced up in surprise before stepping through. It was sparsely furnished, the most personal object being the line of black and white photographs that lined the far wall. The door shut behind him before Manning moved to lean against the front of his desk, a charmingly arrogant smirk on his face. It wasn’t exactly the sort of face that spelt bad news but it didn’t set Schofield to any ease.

“You wanted to see me, sir?” he asked after a moment, meeting the other man’s eyes as best he could. Manning took his sweet time in replying, but Schofield just remained as still as he had in the line of recruits. Two could play this game.

When he finally spoke, Schofield was slightly confused at the nature of the question. “I’m to understand you’re an only child, correct?”

He nodded his assent. “Yessir.”

Manning reached over his desk and picked up a file. “Grandfather’s dead, Father’s dead, mother’s alive, no close ties with any extended family members.”

“Sir, I don’t understand how this is—“

“I’m hoping there is no fiancée or girlfriend back home who would get upset if we sent you on a mission immediately at the completion of your training.” The words hung in the air for a moment and Schofield considered it with shock. They wanted to send him on a _mission?_ Manning watched him process the words with an almost predatory gaze.

“I’m not quite sure I understand,” Schofield replied, keeping his voice flat.

Manning sighed, as though disappointed, dropping the file back on the desk. “Schofield, I’m sure you’ve heard of the ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ clause,” he said easily, although it was obvious he was watching to gauge the reaction.

Schofield felt his blood chill. Everything he’d worked for, everything he’d given up, the personal sacrifices he’d endured to get to where he was, to enjoy what he wanted to do, could be gone. He thought he’d hidden as well as he fucking could so why was Manning just brazenly bringing it up?

He opened his mouth and closed it again, unable to think of a non-incriminating reply.

“And I think you know it better than most. At least, that’s what our mutual friend Alex tells us.” Schofield resisted the urge to pound something. Fuck _everything_. Alex was the last guy he’d been in a relationship with– Schofield had broken it off to join the Marine Corps. It hadn’t gone well. He didn’t know how in the fucking hell Manning had figured this out.

“You’re not supposed to – You’re not allowed – “ Schofield tried to get an excuse out, to at least salvage the situation but the words stilled in his mouth as Manning took two steps forward, chest to chest with Schofield.  Schofield barely realised his breathing had become heavier as Manning spoke again. He was close enough for Schofield to feel his breath against his skin.

“If you don’t ask, I won’t tell,” Manning said in a low voice before kissing Schofield hard on the mouth. Schofield was so shocked, he took a step back and hit the door. Manning followed him, his mouth moving easily against Schofield’s. Schofield felt blood rush to his cheeks and tried to supress the feeling of desire that surged through him at the other man’s actions.

They couldn’t do this. Hell, he didn’t know _why_ Manning was doing this. They’d both end up with an honourable discharge at best, as not to raise suspicion but knowing the cruelty of the powers that be towards homosexuals, dishonourable would be more likely.

But a small part of Schofield wanted this so fucking much. It had been years since he’d even kissed someone, and just the feeling of lips against his, especially skilled lips like Manning’s was enough to make him want to continue. It was only a matter of time before Schofield was kissing him back, his own hand coming up to wind through the messy blonde hair, his mouth parting beneath Manning’s.

Manning pinned Schofield against the door with the whole of his body, hot and dirty against Schofield, shoving his thigh between Schofield’s legs, which slide open just as easily as his mouth. Schofield hadn’t had time to fully appreciate the military uniforms until he felt the friction burning between his legs up against Manning. He groaned, before freezing in the kiss, unable to recognise that he had made that sound.

The pause in the kiss made Manning slowly pull away, his eyes locking with Schofield’s. His face was similarly flushed and his breathing was heavy and harsh in the silence off the office.

“I wouldn’t have thought you’d be scared of a challenge, Schofield,” he said.

“Is it really appropriate to call this a challenge, sir?” Schofield retorted, the honorific used out of habit. A million thoughts were toppling through his mind and he could only think of one form of physical exertion that would stop them. Manning let out a lazy chuckle, that predatory gaze returning but Schofield found himself _liking_ it.

“Do you really think it’s _appropriate_ that you address me as your commanding officer in this situation?” he asked, placing his hand against Schofield’s chest, further pinning him against the door. Schofield tried to squirm out of his grip but soon realised it was impossible.

“I don’t think we should be doing this,” Schofield said in a flat tone, trying to maintain his composure and ignore the _yes_ and _oh god, more_ that his body was screaming at him.

“Alright then,” Manning said. “We won’t do this.”

Schofield glanced at him, suspicious. A man with this much power and this much confidence, who had gone to this much trouble wasn’t someone who he expected to back down easily.

“You can blow me instead,” he said, relishing every word.

Very little surprised Shane Schofield, but this certainly did

“I can what?”

“Blow me, Schofield. If you want to, that is.” He said it in such an offhand tone, so casually that Schofield would have laughed if he wasn’t so nervous. Every survival instinct in his body was yelling at him to get out of there, but that was warring with another emotion as old as the flight-or-fight response: pure, unadulterated lust. He folded his arms as if that physical action would conceal the inner turmoil.

 “And do you always take advantage of soldiers who you find out are this way inclined?” he asked, trying to imitate Manning’s nonchalance about the whole situation.

Clearly, he saw through it. “Schofield, from the way you kissed me back, I would say you were just as happy with the situation as I was. So what’s it to be?”

Schofield met his stare, long and hard, and saw the same want reflected in the other man’s eyes. Hardly thinking of what he was doing, he slid his hands down to where their crotches were still pressing together.  Manning let out a soft exhale, of relief and of triumph as Schofield fumbled with the buckles at the top of his uniform, urgently. His fingers brushed warm skin as he pushed the pants down, before dropping to his knees.

Schofield slid his hands around to squeeze and knead at Manning’s ass and smirked slightly when Manning’s hips bucked forward of their own accord. He slowly slid one hand down to the back of his thigh, the other coming to grip Manning’s cock.

The first touch may have been tentative, but there was _nothing_ shy about the way Scarecrow leaned forward to trace the tip of his tongue along Manning’s cock.

Schofield heard a sharp intake of breath somewhere above him, and felt Manning’s hand grip his hair, forcing him forward. Schofield parted his mouth into an ‘O’ and let himself be pushed along Manning’s length.

He slid his mouth off and sucked in a deep breath as he stroked Manning’s cock in fast hard jerks. It’s been a while since he’s done this, it’s been forever but judging by Manning’s muttered curses and pants, he’s doing okay. He leant back in and took Manning all the way into his mouth, deep enough to bump the back of his throat, and the dick in his mouth is a tad uncomfortable but Schofield was in seventh heaven right now.

A knock at the door made them both freeze. Schofield paused, cock still in his mouth.

“You in there, Manning?” An unfamiliar voice to him, but Manning clearly recognised it, his eyes widening with panic. There is a pregnant pause, before Manning makes the decision to reply

“Yeah, I’m in here alright,” he called, the same cocky tone he normally uses. Slowly, ever so slowly, Schofield worked his tongue around the tip of his cock, using his hand to massage Manning’s balls. He would have smirked if his mouth wasn’t so full when Manning’s next question is a tad strangled. “What did you want?”

“Can I come in and explain it? I’m not overly fond of hosting conversations through closed doors.”

Schofield chose now to take Manning right into his mouth again, causing the other man to lean forward and brace himself against the door with a solid thump.

“If it’s not important, I’ll just find you later,” he managed to say before they hear footsteps fading away very faintly and all Manning can say is “Fuck!” before he came without further warning. Schofield swallowed manfully, licking the tip as he pulled off and slumped to the ground, trying to catch his breath. Above him, Manning is doing the same.

“Fuck…” he repeated, pulling his pants up with one hand and running a hand through his hair with another. “You’re a good find, Schofield.”

Schofield wiped his mouth and pulled himself to his feet. His own cock was achingly hard in his pants but he didn’t have any expectation of relief from the other man. However, Manning steps forward, claiming his mouth again and forces his hand between them to cup Schofield’s crotch. Schofield takes a sharp breath in, unable to think for a moment.

“A damn good find,” Manning murmurs into his ear, his voice still rough from orgasm. Schofield nudges his hips against his hand, seeking friction desperately. “I bet you’d let me fuck you over the desk next time.”

That does it. Schofield groans at his words, bringing his hand down to cover Manning’s and guide him, manipulate him into working him harder and just fucking _so_ and Schofield comes in his pants.  

Eventually, he manages to speak, running his tongue over his swollen lips. “Well, this is going to make getting back to the barracks uncomfortable.” Manning chuckles slightly, smirking at him as he steps back. The fear and paranoia Schofield felt earlier just touches the edge of his mind, but he pushes it away, still revelling in the post orgasm haze.

“I should probably go and find Willas,” he offers and it takes Schofield a moment to realise he’s talking about the visitor at the door. He nods, for lack of something else to do. “And explain to him that the thump was from me dropping something and not anything else he might imagine.”

Schofield feels his cheeks flush but he manages a half smile as he adjusts his trousers. Manning steps around him and pulls the door open. Schofield understands when he’s being dismissed and he salutes Manning, this time with a touch more insolence; he feels he’s got the right to do so after what’s just happened. Manning closes the door without another word.

 

 


End file.
